A Tale of Two Trolls

Waste of time, Rukbara grumbled to herself as the guards dragged yet another lifeless corpse away from her feet. Last year's contenders had at least exerted a minimal effort before succumbing, as they always did, to her superior skills. This year, though, she had barely broken a sweat.

Maybe trolls are growing weaker, she mused silently. Yet another brute moved forward to make his challenge, hoping for the chance to claim her as mate. Waving a hand halfheartedly, she accepted.

"This is a joke, father," she muttered to Gul'Thor, who replied only with a grunt and a sharp glance. Rolling her eyes, she repeated the words in halting Moredhel. The Lord of Rut Horuk was known for taking pride in troll customs, but why he insisted the language of the dark brothers be spoken in camp was a mystery to his daughter.

Shaking her head to clear it of distraction, Rukbara eyed the mountain troll before her. Hairy and rugged, he seemed no different than all the other thuggish contenders who thought they could win her over. Probably thinks he will just chuck me over the head once and drag me away, she snorted to herself.

.oOo.

The pile of corpses grew, and Rukbara remained undefeated. Didn't have a chance, she smirked as she wiped the blood of her most recent opponent from her cheek. Then the next challenger stepped forward, and she halted. This one was different.

Lug'dak of the Ig'tur trolls was as much a prince as a troll could possibly be. Standing straight with a bare chest and hardened, bulging muscles, he towered over most of her kin, looking more like a leader than even Gul'Thor. He speaks well, Rukbara noted with interest. Flawless Moredhel, like one of those city trolls. And those muscles! This one... this one, she just might let win.

.oOo.

Seven nights later, Lug'dak and Rukbara strode into the camp of Rut Horuk, bearing meat from mountain sheep, black bear, and even a wyvern. Hunting together as one, in the traditional manner, the pair had knotted their ties to each other and were now mated for life. Long into the night the Rut Horuk trolls feasted, in celebration of the match between the two camps, before the new couple made their final trek through the mountains to their home of Ig'tur.

.oOo.

Drawn into the public eye by these happenings, both Ig'tur and Rut Horuk camps have been observed to be welcoming outsiders with less hostility than usual. Those who journey into the Teeth of the World will find them wary but amicable in their own gruff way, accepting of outside assistance and willing to share their ways... though the southern races may yet find a cold shoulder instead of a warm welcome.